The Indigo Bar – Introduction

The Indigo Bar is the first story we released at Intrigue Inn, and the first Francesca Palandri mystery. The DCI Palandri mysteries take place in Sussex, UK, with fictional town names.

Billy Grahame has been found murdered at a small hipster bar. He was the host of a small board gaming group who met at the bar every week. His body was found slumped over the prototype of a tarot inspired board game he had created…

Click here to start reading Day 1 of this mystery!

We’ve included bonus content with this mystery – five reviews of board games you might like to try after you’ve read the story!

The Indigo Bar was a live mystery when it was released, allowing readers to comment and interact with the story as instalments were published, and readers could send in their accusations before the culprit was revealed. To maintain an element of this interaction, the final part is password protected. Simply message us on our contact page or in the comments below Day 6 with the phrase INDIGO BAR – DAY 7 to find out whodunit. Why not tell us your theory when you do? We will congratulate you on our social media pages if you’re correct!

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The Hadmere Players – Part 1

The tenth anniversary of the Hadmere Player’s production of The Water Ghost Beckons was approaching. This may not have sounded like a big event, but one decade ago this small town production was precisely that. The play experienced unprecedented success for a local amateur show. It became more than just a small piece of entertainment for the community and neighbouring villages – usually the case for such an event – several flyers through the doors and a handful of performances.

The Water Ghost Beckons told the story of a family torn apart in what the entertainment section of the town’s newsletter described as ‘the most harrowing, humanly affecting fashion.’ During an autumnal break in the Dorset countryside, the family was singularly lured, entranced and picked off, until there remained one sole survivor, by an ethereal and seductive water ghost whom for each character was representative of their personal fears and desires. It was said that what made these later scenes particularly powerful was the time spent on establishing a family dynamic in the play’s first act – an act filled with laughter and familiarity, hitting the nail on the head when it came to a contemporary nuclear family. The contrast of a laughter fuelled first act and a devastating second one made for a particularly striking play.

A combination of word of mouth and local media allowed the play to grow bigger than was ever expected. Perhaps the theme of the play captured the zeitgeist of a new millennium; representing the fear of the unknown felt by society as one by one each character met their fate. Maybe it was the snappy dialogue and clever wordplay that turned local newspaper critic’s heads. Perhaps the balance of comedic and tragic performances captivated the small town community. It was said that the director, Zave Wilson, had struck gold with his casting; the chemistry between the six actors was reported as electric – a pulsating energy that was felt by the audience even in exchanged looks and unspoken scenes. The conversation came across both intense and natural; a strong allegiance between the family members especially was always present.

Whatever the reason, the play was a success. The initial six-day run was extended with another six dates added. Of the added dates, every performance was a full house – a rare sight in Hadmere’s poky townhouse theatre. On the night of the final performance, the cast celebrated with sheer surprise and amazement, taken aback by the attention their little six-person play had received. The upcoming reunion had been planned to coincide with the final performance in Hadmere’s theatre, December 7th. The players were immediately offered the opportunity to perform a string of dates at the festival theatre in nearby Nutbourne. After this, a couple of performances around the greater Sussex area and finally a number of shows were put on at independent theatre houses around London. The cast and crew decided to call it a day after that. They could have taken it further if they had wanted to. Go out on a high and leave them wanting more, Zave Wilson had said. Doors had been opened now. Opportunities for further work in theatre and beyond presented themselves for the actors, and over time a couple of them began to make names for themselves in the entertainment industry. Not everyone chose to further pursue the acting path, though. And not everyone who did follow that path made it as big as they would have liked.

*

Helen Burbank was preparing to leave her Victorian townhouse on Knoll Street and make the short journey into the High Street to The Fox and Hounds. The first snow of the season had begun falling today and she searched for her best winter jacket on the coat hanger, hooking it with a stick when she’d located the brown pea coat.

She started to wonder what exactly she and Zave would talk about. Just two thousand people in this town and we haven’t caught up for at least two years, she thought. How does that happen? Life happens. A lot has happened over the last ten years, she considered. Too much. Those of us who stayed behind don’t see each other as often we should. But we don’t work together anymore, after all, she supposed. All former colleagues do the same thing. They may live in the same town but generally, they’ll catch up just once in awhile for a morning coffee – somewhere like Melinda’s café with its cosy decor or possibly The Quay, especially in summer with it’s neat and colourful terrace. But most former colleagues didn’t create a unique bond when they worked together like the Hadmere Players of 2008 did. We created something quite special, thought Helen, special enough for us to plan a reunion. Only three of the players still remained in Hadmere. Herself, Zave Wilson, and Bill Gregson. When did she ever really chat with Bill anymore either? Yes, she frequented the corner shop on the town square often, but it had become small talk most of the time. ‘Just this milk Bill, I’m in a bit of a rush!’ or ‘Oh, lovely day Bill, be sure to get yourself outside later!’

She worried about Bill sometimes. She wasn’t sure why. He probably didn’t worry about himself too much. He seemed quite content, and always had done. She was quite sure he worried about Catherine Ratcliffe though, the lead in the play and arguably the most successful of them all now. Ten years had not been enough to suppress certain feelings and desires on Bill Gregson’s part, she was positive about that. It would be interesting to see how those two would interact come Friday afternoon. It would be interesting to see how everyone would interact, for that matter. They were all at very different stages of their lives, at different levels of success, and, she believed, different levels of happiness.

Her coat was on, buttoned all the way up, and she pushed herself toward the front door. She passed the cabinet in the hallway and put two fingers to the picture of her and another man which sat on top. The man had messy grey and brown hair. His cheeks were rosy and his head was tilted back in laughter. She paused for a minute, resting her fingers on his face. She did this every time she left her house. Then she moved her fingers from the picture to the wheels of her wheelchair and left to face the snow.

*

Zave Wilson was already inside the pub when Helen came in. He had been lucky to secure a small table; The Fox and Hounds was beginning to heave with customers. Locals moved back and forth; some entered, raising their voices in delight as they caught sight of their friends. Others came in alongside their friends, laughing mid-joke. Some had their hands full with shopping, already on the ball with Christmas, rolls of wrapping paper with little snowmen on poking out the top of large plastic bags. All seemed grateful to leave the cold and embrace the heat radiating from the open fire within and the closely packed bodies. It was a good atmosphere, he couldn’t deny it. It was just the festive predictability of it that bothered him.

“Director Wilson!” Helen exclaimed as she approached him. She was dressed smartly, a grin on her flushed face. “What a place to meet!” She cried. “It was like Where’s Wally trying to locate you in here!” Helen threw her pea coat over the small round table. “Let’s get drinks?” Navigating her wheelchair through the pub hadn’t been easy, but as Zave looked at the crowded bar and made a concerned face, Helen winked at him and made her way slowly toward it. People began making way for her chair as she moved to the front. Zave quickly followed her before the gap closed and become impenetrable again. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Helen was already ordering the drinks with cash in hand from a busty middle-aged woman behind the bar with short cropped hair. She had that typical no-nonsense expression on her face that most female pub managers of her age seemed to have, he thought. He nodded to the manager as he took the drinks a minute later. He bit his lip as he carefully made his way through the all the warm bodies with a pint of orange juice Helen had ordered for him and a small glass of Merlot for herself. As he placed the drinks down on their table, a group of girls in their late twenties or early thirties entered the pub loudly. (Quite a feat considering the level of noise in the pub already.) Zave observed them, unimpressed.

“Thanks for getting these, Helen. We might have to leave soon, though, unless you want to witness a ‘Girls night out.’” He shuddered at the thought.

Helen pushed her wheelchair closer towards the table. “Oh, really?”

“If they sit anywhere near us we can expect ear popping cackling, an onslaught of swear words and sexual innuendo, lemons from their double Malibu and Cokes being thrown at each other and the chorus of a Taylor Swift song being belted out. Badly.”

Helen laughed. “Belligerent as ever then Zave, even as the festive season approaches! I’m surprised you know who Taylor Swift is,” she remarked as she took a sip of her wine. “Anyway, cheers.” She raised her wine glass and he clinked it with his pint.

“Cheers, Helen. The pitfalls of being a daily internet user. You are subjected to information about people and events you couldn’t care less about.”

She laughed. “You strike me more of a newspaper man. The kind of man who would lead a crusade against the increased use of e-books, chanting about the ‘death of print.’”

“E-books and the internet are more than useful inventions. It’s inventions like the selfie stick I have problems with.” He looked behind him. “Ah, it’s okay. They’re standing near the back. And you know one of them will be crying soon. This is the standard protocol of their nights out. This will cause a divide in the group; over half of them will proceed to escort the crier to the toilets while the others will sit and bitch about her life choices.”

“What will she be crying about?”

“A boy, most likely.”

“You know, if it wasn’t for the fact I remember you mentioning you enjoy Christmas, I could be mistaken for thinking you were the reincarnation of Scrooge.”

“I like aspects of Christmas,” Zave grumbled. “So you booked for Farfalle?” He asked.

“Yes. Hopefully, we’ll get that nice table in the alcove. You’ve been there before, right? Should fit seven, even with my chair.”

“Great. Well done, Helen, really. You’ve been responsible for most of the organisation here.”

“Well, why not? I live the closest to the High Street. I know the restaurants and cafés in town the best I would say, out of you, Bill and I. You know, Zave, you’re looking much better these days,” she said, looking at the orange juice in his hand.

Zave waved a hand. “Oh, don’t. Have to say, though, not drinking has done wonders for my mental health. You look great as well, Helen. And I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you on your latest show yet.” He raised his glass in the air and they made another toast.

They caught up with each other’s lives for half an hour or so before Zave checked his watched and told Helen he’d have to be getting on with a job that involved a bit of a drive. Although neither of them would admit it, it was a great relief for both of them to leave the pub.

*

Traffic was slowing down on the approach to Hadmere. Dan Argenta felt an excitement rise inside of him unexpectedly as he saw the large church perched on the hill through the front windows of his Audi. The church he’d spent so many masses, choir practices and school plays in. He’d forgotten how the view of Hadmere Church as you drove towards the town always struck him as one the most beautiful views in the world every time he saw it. Maybe he wouldn’t have forgotten if he had come to visit more often, he wondered. Besides the aesthetics of the town and his family, though, what was there to keep him down here? Maybe when he was older he would buy a house here, perhaps one situated a little out of town for space, and spend weekends in it every so often. It would make a nice contrast to his Richmond townhouse. He could probably afford a small farmhouse down here now if he wanted it, he realised, but he knew he wouldn’t use it. Just because you can afford it doesn’t mean you need it, Catherine had once told him, teaching him the importance of justification, and he always took Catherine’s advice to heart.

Dan Argenta was one of the biggest success stories to come out of the Hadmere players. Interestingly, he had had one of the smallest roles. The nosy neighbour who had followed the family to Dorset was the first character to be lured through the fog by the water ghost. It was a pivotal role in that he was responsible for exposing some of the family secrets, yet ultimately a peripheral one. That didn’t stop the string of successful auditions and exciting stage and TV offers that lead Dan to where he was today. He knew that many wondered if it was because the British public loved a rags to riches tale. They always rooted for the underdog. Not only was Dan an underdog in the play itself, but he came from pretty humble beginnings in real life. Dan grew up on Sentel Road. It was essentially the working class road leading out of town. If anyone deserved success it was Dan, many of his supporters had always said. And he had started to believe it.

*

The unexpected pulp in his orange juice had made Zave feel a bit sick. The Fox and Hounds had been a terrible idea. He looked in the rearview mirror and to him, the bags were striking. How anyone could not be drawn immediately to them, he thought. Helen had said he was looking better!

He sighed and switched on the radio. It was going to be a bit of a drive to Nutbourne in this weather. He had a few teaching jobs on the go at the moment – one on one acting classes – and he was currently involved with the local school’s Nativity play. He wondered what the other players would think of him now as he started driving down the High Street. Would the likes of Catherine and Dan look at him with pity, knowing the course his life had taken over the last ten years? No big success, alcoholism… while they had risen from strength to strength. Although Dan was a hit with the younger generations Catherine was probably the better-known household name. She was currently the lead in popular prime-time drama Dance, Mary, Dance (the story of a mother who lost everything but was slowly getting her life back through modern dance) and this was on the back of a raved about performance as Grizabella in Cats up in Manchester. People hadn’t known Catherine had such a great voice inside of her. Even Zave hadn’t, which annoyed him a little. Hana and Gareth had enjoyed success to a degree, but not quite on the same level. It had all started well for Helen of course, but her tragedy put a sharp halt to that.

Xavier Wilson was, most people agreed, the key to Water Ghost’s success. He had directed and written the play, and was also responsible for casting the six actors. At the time, he had known the script was a good one. He had also known that Hadmere had an abundance of local talent in the unlikeliest of places. But the play’s success had shocked him just as much as it did the others. For Zave, directing was just a hobby in 2008. A theatre enthusiast, he wanted only to put his fingers into different pies after quitting work as a chauffeur. He was never too forthcoming with his reasons for leaving the profession, but it was common knowledge that he’d suffered from alcoholism. Directing had freed him, focused his mind. The success was also the beginning of a second personal downfall, however. He was never able to reach the heights of Water Ghost again and his special band of Merry Men had disbanded. Only Bill Gregson and Helen stayed in Hadmere. Bill had no interest in performing further and while Helen was eager at first, the accident saw an end to that for a while. He was never able to find any local performers quite as good. The chemistry was never the same. Dropping back slowly into old habits, he put down his director’s cap and picked up a wine bottle instead.

*

Gregson’s had been run by Bill Gregson for the last twenty-five years. A small matter of having a lead role in an unexpectedly successful play hadn’t stopped that. It was straight back to the shop for Bill, and having him around, carrying on with his positively normal daily routine, made the idea of Helen being a local celebrity sound strange – that status came from the same place Bill had come from, and most people didn’t think of him as any kind of celebrity. Helen entered Gregson’s and waited for an elderly couple to pay for a newspaper. They collected their change and shuffled to the door, preparing themselves for the snow.

‘Heya Helen,” Bill said.

“Hi, Bill! Just had a drink with Zave! Booked us in for Farfalle on Friday too.”

“Lovely,” he said, in a restrained voice. He was trying, she thought. He didn’t care for the reunion, she knew that. But of course, he would come. Catherine would be there.

“Coffee too in the daytime tomorrow, Melinda’s probably, you can make that too, right?

“Why are we meeting twice?” he asked, baffled.

“Good question,” she laughed. “Well, not everyone could make the meal at first so coffee was suggested, but then when dinner was good for everyone it just sort of stuck. I think it will be nice, though. Be a bit of an icebreaker; make dinner more relaxed for us all.” It made her wonder where the idea for a reunion had come from in the first place, and she couldn’t be too sure – it had been on a group message chat between all of them except Bill, absent because everybody just assumed he would have no idea how group messaging worked she supposed.

“Okay, Helen. Coffee’s fine too I guess. Mel will be taking care of business here tomorrow anyway, so I’m free.”

Helen gave what she hoped was a genuine smile as she picked up two packets of chicken stock cubes from a shelf near the counter. Cold weather and snow meant one thing: it was soup season, so stocking up on stock cubes was a must. She worried the smile may have been a sad one. She couldn’t help but feel sad, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She just didn’t understand how some people like Bill could be content with so little. Especially after having a taste of something greater. She loved small-town life, it was true, and even if the ‘accident’ (hah!) hadn’t happened she would have been happy to stay in Hadmere, as a base. But she still had dreams and ambitions. There had been some severe stumbling blocks, but she was making progress once again. Music had become the second love of her life in recent years. It had always been a passion, but comedy had come more naturally. Helen was one of only two Hadmere players who had been on a stage before The Water Ghost Beckons, where she’d played the comedy relief as the husband’s sister, providing the majority of the laughs in the play’s first act before the tone darkened dramatically in the second. She hadn’t done that much beforehand. Mainly open mike nights and a couple of local comedy festivals. Her dreams of performing at the Edinburgh Fringe came true after the play’s success. She was on her way to making a name for herself – one-woman shows, bigger audiences… you’re the next Miranda Hart her agency had told her. Although her dreams grew bigger, when the car hit her and John she realised her original dream of playing in Edinburgh would have to suffice. John had died instantly. Helen had fared worse, or so she believed for a long time. Paralysed from the waist down and told she would never walk again, mourning her husband, she hated the fact she was still alive at first. Her sense of humour couldn’t help her. The only thing she could muster up were variants on playing with the words ‘stand-up comedy’. A laugh out loud Miranda Hart level set in the making it was not. No, that little dream would have to be plucked and put on a jar on the shelf with only a remote possibility of ever being opened again.

The cello had been her solace. In bed watching the Japanese movie Departures, she felt inspired. She devoted her time to the instrument so as to take her mind off everything else consuming her. Eat, cello, eat, bed became her life. Realising that she both needed to do something with her life and that she was really quite a good cellist, Helen took to some local performances. A comeback, people had said. A wonderful sob story for people to enjoy… dead husband, ruined comedy career, burying her sorrow in the rich, mellow sounds of the cello only to master her craft and put on captivating performances. Bravo. Not a dry eye in the house. Back on the stage but under circumstances no one could have foreseen. Much like the sound of her instrument, her successful performances are bittersweet, one local newspaper wrote. Bittersweet would not be the world Helen would use to describe a horrific incident resulting in tragedy and some middling success as a cellist.

Helen bid farewell to Bill in a resolve to train her mind to not feel sorry for him, and much like the elderly couple beforehand she messed around with her scarf and jacket before heading back into the snow.

*

The next day, Gareth Lawler bowed his head to enter the low-ceilinged coffee shop, Melinda’s. The drive down had been hellish due to snow, all for a coffee in a room where he couldn’t even stand up properly. Hana, his carpool companion, tottered in behind him. She shivered, inevitably. It was December, there was snow on the streets and she was dressed to impress, not for comfort. She had suggested they wait a while, take a drive together for a bit longer to continue their catch up, one on one. Sure, he knew how she still felt about him – anyone who read a celebrity gossip magazine did – but he couldn’t help think that she wanted to be fashionably late and make an entrance in her black Tom Ford dress. As it stood, they were the first ones there. We’re first and Bill’s shop is literally three seconds away, Gareth thought.

“This place is the same, Gaz!” Hana remarked.

“Everything is still the same here,” he replied with a sigh. He remembered coming to Melinda’s as a child and by the looks of it the interior had not changed one bit. Looking at the fluffy cushions on each chair which were filled undoubtedly with decades of dust, Gareth felt a little depressed.

Just behind them, the bell above the door rang as it opened and Helen entered. It was a shock for Gareth to see the wheelchair. He knew about it, of course, but this was the first time they’d met since her accident.

“Gosh, you two,” Helen gushed. “Give us some warning next time… Hadmere can’t handle two sets of dentures that bright and perfect…”

“Oh, Helen! It’s great to see you!” Hana beamed and they embraced each other, Gareth followed suit, and they waited for the others to arrive, taking seats on fluffy mismatched chairs around a large table. Sure, there’s some rustic charm to places like this, considered Gareth. But he definitely preferred things more on the neat and polished side. Bill was next in through the door, followed by Dan. They all embraced with a slight British awkwardness which Gareth observed with some embarrassment. Who decided reunions were ever a good idea? he thought. They are just full of constant awkward exchanges, the desire to out-impress each other and compare oneself to everybody else. It was stressful. The serving staff at Melinda’s appeared to be finding it all a bit much, too. A couple of them may not have been old enough to remember The Water Ghost Beckons (although they certainly knew about it, as Hadmere citizens) but they recognised Dan Argenta straight away. Most of them knew Hana also, and a couple recognised Gareth but were not quite able to place him. A flustered girl of around sixteen eagerly started setting up the table. There was definitely some interest from the customers too, not very well hidden, Gareth observed, noting a man of around twenty-five sitting alone at the back of the cafe who was trying not to stare.

Zave was next in, wearing a long trench coat. Likeable enough but a bit too intense and irritable for Gareth’s liking at times. Warm smiles, hugs, and exclamations of surprise once more.

“No Catherine yet?” Zave asked, flopping his jacket over a seat.

“I got a message from her, she’s on her way,’ Helen replied. “Making an entrance!” She laughed. Hana did not look impressed.

“Good idea on the coffee catch up today Helen!” said Dan. He was beaming, and for good reason thought Gareth wryly, the serving staff were practically falling over at the sight of him. He wasn’t sure who was winning between the youngest looking waitress and the twenty-five-year-old customer.

“Thanks, Dan. God, it’s so surreal to see everyone back together!”

“Bill, you haven’t changed one bit!” Hana chimed in.

“Yes… no fancy dental work for me, eh,” he replied with a smile. Hana and Gareth weren’t sure what to quite make of that statement.

“And you’re still at the shop?” Hana asked with what was clearly meant to come across as casual politeness, but the note of derision was unmistakable.

“Yes…” said Bill with a short smile. “I know I haven’t been venturing out, gallivanting around London town like some of you lot, but I love Hadmere. Always have, always will. Just look at it – especially today in the snow. It’s like something from Dickens.”

They all responded in agreement as the bell above the door rang once more and Catherine Ratcliffe entered, a large grin on her face as she spotted the others. She removed her jacket and shook it on the doormat to get rid of some of the settled snow. Catherine Ratcliffe looked the part of a middle-aged star, her short-styled curly hair immaculate and her red and black dress flattering without being revealing. Now here’s a woman who knows what to do with her age, thought Gareth. In spite of himself, he started laughing inside at what poor Bill must be thinking right now. Why he never made a move, Gareth would never understand. Catherine carried her thick black faux fur jacket and a handbag matching her dress and took a seat beside Dan after hugs and kisses. Chanel No. 5 wafted up Gareth’s nose as he thought how unsurprising it was for Catherine to sit next to her celebrity buddy Dan.

“Sorry, all! I had a surprise visit from Margo before leaving this morning – my agent – she’s been on the phone with one of those celebrity Saturday night dancing shows. I’ve been trying to decide if I want to embarrass myself or not… Still not sure!” She gave an embarrassed shrug and laughed.

“You know what I would say Cath,” said Dan, “Go for it. You always tell me to grab opportunities.”

Ha, thought Gareth, he just had to get a mention of how he and ‘Cath’ are pals. Gareth wondered if he was the only one thinking that.

“Let me go and order some drinks – what’ll it be guys, coffees?” asked Zave, getting ready to stand up.

Most of the group ordered americanos except for Hana who preferred tea and Dan who ordered the most expensive smoothie he could find on the menu. Zave went to the bar to order and Dan went to use the toilets. The rest of the group had broken off into separate conversations. Catherine and Hana were discussing Hana’s current local Sussex TV gig while Gareth, Bill and Helen talked about the differences between London and Hadmere.

“I’m a best of both girl, really,” said Helen. “Love small town life here but it’s good to remember there’s more going on in this world and just how busy it can be with a trip up to London now and then.”

“Do you have any upcoming shows in London, Helen?” asked Gareth. “Surely with the success you’ve been having down here?”

“One’s in the pipeline, yes. It’s a bit scary – the idea of a big London audience… it’s been a while. Well, big London audiences are nothing to you Gaz – has your latest show finished it’s run yet?

“Yeah, couple of weeks back. I only had a small part, though…”

“Still! That’s super impressive.”

“I don’t feel the need to go to London much, to be honest,” said Bill. “I know what it’s like. It’s dirty and frantic and everyone looks stressed and tired. I don’t need regular visits to remember that.”

Zave and Dan, once back at the table, had joined Hana and Catherine’s discussion. Helen went to the toilets and then shortly after she came back the young waitress brought over the drinks on a shaking tray. Gareth took the tray from her hands to help her out and placed it on the table.

“I just don’t know why the bigger modelling agencies haven’t picked up on you yet, Hana. You’re so stunning, more so than ever,” Catherine said. She wasn’t wrong. With her perfect skin, large blue eyes and sleek chestnut hair, Hana Payne often made people do a double-take when they first saw her. She’d had middling success with modelling, having worked internationally with a recent tour around Asia.

“Lot of luck in modelling, Cath.” Hana replied. “It’s why I moved on to presenting.”

Catherine nodded sincerely. “I understand that. Keeping options open is always wise, I say. Well, cheers everyone!” She said, turning to the others and taking her coffee, as everyone had been fiddling around with sugar packets and stirring their drinks. “I’m so happy this is happening! I’m not lying when I saw that despite the play being a decade ago now you lot never leave my mind. I’m always wondering what everyone’s up to.” They cheered and clinked their cups and glasses and sipped their drinks before resuming their conversations.

“Well if you know of any contacts, Catherine, please let me know,” said Hana. But Catherine wasn’t listening. Catherine was trying to fight off the paralysing sensation that had suddenly overtaken her entire body.

“Catherine?” Hana asked, but the poison was already taking its fatal effects.

“Guys! Catherine –” But everyone understood now as Catherine Ratcliffe fell limply from her chair, causing Dan next to her to act immediately and grab her before she hit the floor, holding her as she shook, yelling her name but to no avail – a minute later, she was dead.

 

© Intrigue Inn

 

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Survey – Online Mystery Packages

G’day detectives!

We would like to change the way we send out our short stories by creating a unique online murder mystery package. This package will deliver a new way to experience a story and the world it’s set in. Each package will contain all instalments of one of our stories, as well as content and puzzles relating to that story. And you get to choose how frequently you receive the instalments!

Your input is extremely valuable to us in order to create the best package possible. We would really appreciate it if you could take few minutes to complete a simple anonymous survey. We want to hear about your likes and preferences and take all that information on-board!

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The Pearl of Taiwan – Day 6

I make a plan to travel to Jiufen in the early afternoon. I did intend to go earlier, but I ask Josh and Naomi if they’d like to meet for breakfast first. Josh hasn’t been messaging much since the murder, understandably of course. I’ve been the one asking them to meet up since (although yesterday that was to check I could actually trust them – paranoia at it’s finest) and I want to be careful to not pester them too much. Saying that, I do think it’s important to catch up regularly while we’re all in Taipei. It can potentially help the healing process of such a traumatic event.

I’m also keen to catch up with Michael and Pauline before they leave for the next stop on their cruise. I have no contact information, so I phone up their hotel in Jiufen to see if they would be willing to pass on their details. The lady on the phone doesn’t have a number to give me, but their registration form states which hotel Michael and Pauline Chapman are staying at in Taipei.

Josh sends me his location – an American diner in Ximen. I decide to walk there, headphones on and listening to The Eagles, while seeing if there is anything I can find out about Michael and Pauline online. Social media has been a valuable resource in investigating some people so far but it’s not helping me now. I type their names into a search engine instead.

The top result is a community forum on a website called ‘Joyful Over Jewels‘, a website dedicated to luxury vintage and antique jewellery. The search results indicate Pauline and Michael are members of the forum, having racked up an impressive post count. There are various discussions on different cuts and evaluations, but the couple’s main activity seems to be centred around a sub-forum discussing expensive jewellery items around the world. Their history, value and movement are all analysed in depth by the members frequenting this sub-forum. As I read, I recall the couple mentioning their love of gold – visiting museums in South Africa and now here in Taiwan. They are clearly enamoured by jewels and precious minerals. Not a promising sign. As I scroll down the thread titles I spot one called ‘Sansberg Necklace – Where Is It Now?‘ with members discussing the current whereabouts of the extortionately valued pearl necklace. Michael and Pauline are very active in determining its current location, and on several occasions they comment on how beautiful they find the piece. Their sleuthing has been successful, and they’ve tracked the necklace to Cindy. ‘How ridiculous! Giving such a unique and fabulous piece to the nanny! Lindholm had zero respect for fine jewellery,’ reads one of Pauline’s comments. ‘This is possibly the most beautiful pearl necklace in the world!’

I stop reading as I arrive at the diner. I join Josh and Naomi for American breakfast and milkshakes. I try to put aside what I’ve just read until I visit the Chapman’s hotel later.

“This place is not as good as back home, of course,” says Josh as our food arrives. “But it satisfies a craving. How are you feeling today, Greg?”

“I’m still confused by everything, to be completely honest,” I reply.

Naomi gives me a sympathetic look. ” I was too, up until yesterday. But now they’ve arrested that ex-boyfriend. It’s over.”

“Greg doesn’t think he did it,” says Josh.  “I suppose it could have been someone else. I didn’t really think that Cindy could have enemies. But now that I understand a little bit more about that necklace and its worth, it’s entirely possible. Naomi mentioned that Cindy told her about the relationship she had with her boss, and that Lindholm’s family may have been jealous.”

“Yes,” says Naomi. “It occurred to me after her death that her family may not have been happy with Cindy receiving that necklace. It was clearly worth a lot. I mentioned this to the police officer in Jiufen when he told me they’ve arrested Chih Ming. That could be something for them to look into! But they think they have their guy, so that’s that.”

“Its worth five million dollars, by the way. I looked it up.” I tell them. “It was easy to find out.”

Josh nearly spits out his pancakes. “What? What the hell was she doing wearing it every day? Obviously it was expensive, but wow.”

“Maybe she didn’t know its true value…” I suggest. ” I think she wore it more out of respect for Robin Lindholm than for how luxurious it is.”

“She only told me bits and pieces, but I always wondered what kind of relationship they had,” says Naomi. “I did suspect romantic. But it’s hard to imagine isn’t it? She was a strange girl, really. Very wary of new people. If she hadn’t met someone before, she didn’t trust them. She was shy with me at first, back in Rochester. Not for too long, though.”

“That’s because you’re so friendly and easy to get along with,” I compliment Naomi. “You both are. I noticed she wasn’t so forthcoming with me at first. But she seemed very protective of that necklace. So maybe she did know its value, and that’s why she was wary of people who tried to befriend her.”

We finish our meals and Josh pays from a screwed up wad of cash in his bag.

“Some bookings like to pay the old fashioned way,” Josh says frowning, nodding at the cash.

“We should be using that to eat more local food, instead of this stuff! Only a week left for us here,” Naomi says. ”

“Oh, so soon!” I say. “I didn’t realise. How did the billboard bookings go, cash payments aside?” I ask Josh.

“Oh, not bad!” he says, but I can hear disappointment in his voice. I wonder, despite the good things they’ve mentioned about their agency, if they were expecting more by the time their contracts were up.

“Well you’ve gained some great experience over here, I expect. It’ll put you in good stead back home.”

“Hopefully,” Josh says vaguely. Frustration at modelling sucesss aside, the spark Josh and I had is fading, I can see it. There’s a detachment. Cindy’s death has sort of put a damper on our flirting and I can tell that he and his sister probably just want to move on from the ordeal. Unfortunately, I became a part of that ordeal and am therefore included in this dark chapter that the two of them would preferrably rather forget.

“I’ll probably only be in Taiwan a few more days myself,” I tell the siblings. “But please, feel free to talk anytime. We may be able to help each other make sense of it all. I’d add you both on social media but you’re not on there?”

“Private profiles to avoid prying eyes at our agency,” Naomi explains. “We’ve heard horror stories about foreigners being fired based on their online photos and statuses.”

“Oh wow. We can just text. And guys, please do eat more Taiwanese food in your final week. Especially you, Josh! You are seriously missing out. Look up a place called Kuo Noodles. You won’t regret it.”

*

Pauline and Michael’s hotel is in the same area as mine, in the Taipei Main Station area. It’s worth a try to see if they’re around, I have to go to the main station anyway to travel up to Jiufen.

At the hotel I ask a receptionist about the couple. He tells me that they have checked out, but left their suitcases here. They should be collecting them shortly as they have to leave for their cruise ship. I wait in the lobby seating area. Michael and Pauline come back twenty minutes later and are clearly annoyed to see me at first, but sit down with me to talk.

“Look, we need to leave in a few minutes. We can’t talk for long,” Michael tells me. “What do you want? They’ve made an arrest. It was on the news.”

“Honestly, I want to talk about Joyful Over Jewels. You told me you didn’t know Cindy at all, but that’s not quite true.”

“Greg, why are you snooping?” Pauline asks, exasperated. “I know it’s suspicious but we didn’t do anything- we tried to help her when she started choking!”

“Okay, so clearly you’ve read our comments on the forum,” Michael says. “You know, we didn’t come to Taiwan specifically because of Cindy, if that’s what your getting at. It was a happy coincidence that she was in Taiwan during our cruise. We did however choose to visit Jiufen based on her movements. We couldn’t resist getting a look at the Sansberg necklace! But steal it? And kill Cindy? No, absolutely not.”

“You were, it appears, the last two people to speak to her,” I mention.

“Yes. She came into the cafe that we had decided to visit – by chance may I add. Once she sat down we decided it was worth a try asking her about the necklace. Just wanted to see it. And perhaps ask her why Lindholm gave it to her. Out of curiosity, you know. She wasn’t even wearing it anyway, like she was the day before. Saw a glimpse at the waterfall. Well, she was very rude and told us to leave her alone. We were only asking, for goodness sake.”

“And you noticed nothing unusual otherwise?” I ask, unsure whether to trust them or not.

“No. We tried to help,” Michael repeats. “You were there, so you know this. Now, Greg, we have to go. We suggest you leave this matter be. I just hope they can locate the necklace and find a good home for it.”

*

My journey to Jiufen is quick, and this time I manage to find the bus stop outside Riufang station. After the bus drops me off, my first stop is the hotel I stayed at. I spot Winnie in the kitchen and she’s surprised to see me.

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“Oh, Greg! What are you doing here?” Cindy puts down a knife and walks into the dining area.

“I heard Chih Ming has been arrested. It doesn’t seem right to me, at all. I came back to see if I can help in any way.”

“It’s horrible,” she sighs, sitting down with me at one of the dining tables. “I was so upset with him. And Cindy. I could see them getting close again… I’m not stupid. He mentioned her occasionally in the past. This week, I realised it was her, and I couldn’t believe she was staying at our hotel! But it’s so horrible that Cindy is dead and Chih Ming has been blamed… We haven’t been dating for long, but there’s no way he would do this. And they’ve found no evidence of poison at Daydreams and Tea. In the bubble tea machine, on the counters, nowhere. That poor manager there… either this is going to be great for her business or no one will visit anymore. Oh, wait there a second… I have something for you to try. I made some traditional style cheese balls.”

She brings a plate of them over and we share a few of the doughy balls filled perfectly with hot cheese piped in to the centre.

“Wow, these are great, thank you.”

“I’m glad you like them. I’m becoming very good with desserts now.”

“Winnie, why did you go to the cafe that day? When did you get there?”

“I got there just a minute before Cindy did. It was my morning off. I was taking a long walk and then decided to visit the cafe so I could chat with Chih Ming when his shift was over. Cindy seemed very flustered when she arrived, I don’t know why. I had just sat down at one of the booth tables when she walked in. She was looking in her bag carefully. Like she was double checking she had everything on her. She then sort of argued with Chih Ming for a few minutes. Because I was there. She saw me. But I think she was actually just emotional or stressed about something else at the time. She was very shaken.”

“She wasn’t like that when she left this dining room just fifteen minutes before. What happened after she ordered her drink?”

“Well, she sat down and then two foreigners came and spoke to her. They wanted to know about her jewellery, I think, but Cindy wasn’t happy about it so they went to sit down again. They were very disappointed. Then Chih Ming came over with her bubble tea. She added some popping pearls from a container to her drink. She put the container of popping pearls back into her bag on the floor. Very weird. Who carries popping pearls around with them? I noticed she added them to her drinks at breakfast here. Anyway, a few minutes later she was sick…”

“That’s very interesting. Thanks. You know, that necklace is worth a lot of money.”

“I heard. Whoever has it now, if they sell it, they can do anything they like in this world… Escape anywhere, buy anything they want… Imagine.” She sounds jealous. “I didn’t see anyone take it, though. I didn’t notice if she was wearing it. I mean, maybe when everyone gathered around her but it would be very difficult. If the necklace was in her bag maybe someone could grab it, but around her neck no way. Someone must have taken the necklace before she came.”

I thank Winnie for her food and conversation and once again retrace the path from the hotel to Daydreams and Tea. I am more sure than ever that something happened on her short journey to the cafe. As I climb the stone stairway, I look carefully for a sign, a clue, anything. I climb a particularly overgrown part of the stairway and spot something half submerged in the dirt next to one of the steps. As I look closer, I see it’s a Polaroid picture. I pick it up. It’s a picture of Alma and her boyfriend Kevin, here in Jiufen, walking along Old Street among a crowd of people. They’re not looking at the camera. I don’t think they knew the picture was being taken. Who took it? Why is it here? Why take a picture of them unawares? I look at the spot where I picked up the Polaroid more carefully, pushing a shrub to one side. Popping pearls! Just two of them, half covered by dirt.  There’s also a fragment of a receipt and two coins. I take a picture with my phone of the items and keep the Polaroid on me.

I walk back down the stairs and to the police station. The young officer seems confused, but takes it from me as I tell him there are a few other bits and pieces by the steps that could be considered evidence. I strongly advise him and his team to think about this case carefully, because I’m positive that Chih Ming has nothing to do with this. Whoever did this knew that Chih Ming would be an easy target, and in case he wasn’t, well, it would appear they hatched a plan to lure the daughter of Robin Lindholm to Jiufen while Cindy was here, making her look extremely suspicious.

I make my way to the bus stop. I think I’m done here. I have a lot to think about, and when I’m finished I’m going to need a bowl of beef noodle soup and a long chat with Freddy Kuo. I’m keen to discuss my thoughts with him and seek advice on how I should proceed from here.

© Intrigue Inn

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